The ghost of a serial killer who harnesses some dark juju is connected to the remnants of the old FrightWorld Amusement Park. These pieces of the place are stored in a dilapidated warehouse where said madman dragged himself after violently dispatching several police officers before succumbing to his shotgun-inflicted injuries. The credits follow and various special effects and ghoulies are displayed as the names hit the screen. I’ve seen this film runs longer than 100 minutes and I’m starting to realize nobody was around to tell the filmmakers “no.” This could lead to a butt-numbing time… but we’ll see. A brief history of the amusement park follows and then we join nine idiots checking out that warehouse from the opening. One of the derps has purchased the building with plans to reopen FrightWorld and they’re all there to have a little celebration. They’re all horny and they’re all annoying and only a couple of them can actually act. Drinking, blunts and cigarettes are part of the revelries set to awful Nu metal and then a tour is given by FrightWorld’s new owner. The least-seductive striptease this side of a rural Wisconsin strip club also takes up way more time than necessary. A string of sex scenes set to music that sounds like Evanescence if Amy Lee were a cat with throat cancer follows and they’re about as erotic as watching your best friend drown in three feet of water. Don’t worry, if sex scenes aren’t your thing, there’s also a serious conversation about a woman’s virginity delivered by an actress who seems more bored than anything. Wait. Nope. This leads to another sex scene on the opposite side of titillating. I’m close to tapping out. After multiple stops in the bone zone, the dead killer finally resurrects (I’m not even going to say that it’s set to wretched music, from here on out just assume every scene will be showcasing the kind of tunes that make you want stab yourself in the ears) for reasons I’m not too clear on but whatever, at least something is finally happening that’s not boring sex and partying. The only actress I like (and that’s not for good reasons, her line delivery makes her sound like a Valley girl who took a sledgehammer blow to the noggin) wanders off to pee in the corner of one of the fright show rooms. She sits down and talks to some of the creepy clown art and starts to masturbate. I think she’s attacked by some clowns, I don’t know, it’s not clear. I do know the guy she just banged wakes up to what he thinks is her giving him a blowie and as he’s about to climax, his wiener gets bitten off and a ridiculous amount of blood gushes on him from off-screen. People begin to realize things ain’t right and one of the girls knows the score because she actually survived the killer’s reign of terror all them years ago. They’re trapped inside with no power and a supernatural killer hellbent on slaughtering their dumb asses. Stress levels rise and everyone turns on each other because why should this not be annoying as all hell. There’s plenty of wandering around under-lit locations and the killer pops in every so often to take out another dink or disguise himself as one of the other dinks. This shit just drags on and on and on with not enough splatter to justify it dragging ass all over the place. With nine victims available to meet their maker, that’s impressive in how misjudged it is. Especially since some of the dead can come back to get killed again. How did you blow this? You’re drowning in the kind of Nu metal that would have you begging for someone to throw on Spineshank and “treated” to extended ogling of the spook-show props for the majority of the runtime. This thing could have been a mildly entertaining and wet garbage slasher if someone just cut out like thirty or forty fuckin’ minutes.
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